FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Prior to the day trip with Kisa and her daughter, I couldn't tell you the last time I had fun going shopping, but I think never would have been accurate. Even my trips with Allison had been merely 'meh' at best, rather than just being completely tedious. I suppose it's true that the company makes the trip, and in spite of myself, I was actually enjoying the time out.

We headed north into Burke, the bigger city has several of the larger chain stores, sporting both a Wal-Mart and Target as anchors for a couple of strip malls. The latest addition at the time was a Home Depot that had been built a couple of years prior. The downtown has a shopping district, offering a few blocks of restaurants and smaller stores, many of them being family run businesses that handle specialized services or merchandise.

During the drive, the conversation drifted around various topics. We talked about how the Atlanta club was doing (this was the subject Jenna was most interested in), shared a few war stories from work (anything computer related and Jenna zoned out, preferring to pay attention to her tablet instead), and just general chit chat. Kisa preferred driving manually, though the sedan did have an autonomous option. We were only a few miles from the city outskirts when Kisa glanced at me, “We're mostly out for some house goods, and I thought you may know what stores are worth visiting."

I thought for a moment, the last time I was in Burke was about a year and a half back, early December. The holidays were close and I was trying to look for gifts. My attempts to find items online were a bust, so I decided to give the smaller shops a go in the hopes of finding something a bit more personal. I found a store that carried hand made glass items, and one of the antique stores had a nice lamp that was in the style of one I'd seen in my grandparents' house. I had walked nearly the entire shopping area, and the results were a sore knee, three gifts taken care of, and a decent knowledge of what could be found. “I assume you want something smaller scale?"

The aquamarine earrings swayed gently against the black of her ear tips as she nodded, “I'd like that, yes. There's a few essentials I need to pick up, so I was thinking about stopping by the Target that's close to the auto parts store on our way back."

“In that case, we should head downtown so long as you're alright with walking a bit." I knew Jenna handled the heat well enough, and I figured Kisa did as well given that she hadn't complained about the temperatures during practices. I did wonder about that though, they were practically wearing fur coats.

Kisa took a short look in the rear view mirror, Jenna was absorbed in whatever she was watching on the tablet, “Absolutely."

I pulled out my phone and switched over to the maps application, “OK then, we should be there in about fifteen minutes. We'll take the 231 business exit and its pretty much a straight shot."

* * *

Calling the place downtown is a bit of a stretch compared to something like Atlanta or New York, but such labels are always relative. To this day there isn't more than a few blocks in any direction from the center of the shopping district, and I had thought the place would be a bit underwhelming. I was pleasantly surprised when Kisa walked around the car to the sidewalk. She had on a pair of flat sandals that had ties which wove across the top of her feline feet and around the base of her ankles. Her ears were pointed forward and upright, and her tail swayed gently just below the darker blue band of her belt. She stood for a moment, taking in the small town's atmosphere. Jenna bounded out from the rear driver's side door moments later, having taken a second to shut down her tablet and stow it safely in the car. I got out just after that in need of a stretch after the ride.

The two looked across the array of store fronts, most places had painted signs or the name of the store spelled out in wooden lettering above the awnings. Very few had anything more fancy than a neon open sign and even those were rare. It was about as small town as you could get, and they seemed to love it. Kisa looked back at me, her crystal blue eyes sparkling in the mid day sun, and flicked her ear in the direction of the stores, “Shall we?"

I nodded and shut the car door, then walked over to beside the two demis and took a quick scan of the stores to jog my memory. Most of the store fronts were familiar, though a new bookstore had opened in a building that was vacant the last time I was in town. “So, what exactly are we looking for?"

Kisa shook her head, “I don't have anything particular in mind, but I do know the colors I'd like. A few decorations and maybe a smaller bookshelf or two." She looked at Jenna, “Her room is fine, we took all her club items with us in the move, but for the most part the apartment is pretty bare."

I think there'd be an all out, no holds barred fight over scrapping anything that had the Atlanta United logo on it. “Well, in that case, there's a few places with unique furniture. Oh, and there's a glass studio that does custom work." It was one of the more interesting shops and since the items were hand made, you were going to get a one of a kind piece no matter what.

“Well, that settles it. Lead the way, Mr Coach." Kisa flashed a quick grin before turning back to the store fronts, the skirt of her sun dress flaring with the half twirl.

Jenna giggled at her mother's use of my now semi-official name, then she turned and checked both ways before scampering off across the street and waiting at the other side for us slower adults. Living in Atlanta would teach you those life skills, I'd heard of problems in soccer tournaments where kids weren't used to the traffic of a larger city. Kisa and I followed at a more reasonable pace, and I nodded to the left, “We'll head that way first. There's a couple of places just ahead that I think you'll want to see."

Kisa nodded, “Sure, and if you want to stop anywhere, we're fine." Jenna was already peering through the window at a clothing store, I think they specialized in formal attire judging by the dresses on display. “That goes for you to honey, speak up if you want to go in."

“Mmm-Hmm," the reply was quick as she walked over to the next window. The dresses in that section of the shop looked like high-end prom attire or maybe something for a wedding. The fabrics had a slight shine to them and to my admittedly untrained eye, the cuts looked a bit showy.

Kisa shook her head, “She appreciates that they're pretty, but you'll never get her into one of them. At least not for a more years."

I laughed a bit, “No way to run in them." Jenna looked back at us, maybe she thought we were teasing her. I raised my voice just a bit and waved off the store's contents, “It's fine though, I think they look nice too, but you won't get me in one of them either. I'd look horrific." There were guys that could pull it off, but I knew enough about my looks to realize I wasn't one of them.

Jenna giggled at the thought while Kisa gave me an incredulous look. I think somehow the picture of me in a prom dress entered their minds, and it probably was a bad as what I imagined. Her ears turned at odd angles before she joined in Jenna's giggles and pushed me past the windows to the next store.

* * *

We made it past the first two blocks and rounded the corner to where one of the destinations on my list was. Kisa hadn't found anything she liked in the stores so far, but The Ice Cream Parlor (that was the store's actual name) made the walk worth it. It was still fairly early so we were the only customers in the place. I found out that Kisa is a chocolate fan, dark chocolate specifically, when it comes to ice cream. Jenna likes the fruity varieties and so she took a bit to decide on a scoop of cherry jubilee along with a scoop of orange sherbet. While she was fine with me and the soccer group, she was still nervous around others and had her mother order for her. When it was my turn to order, I went with a plain chocolate shake.

“That'll be twelve seventy-seven," the girl behind the counter added a genuine smile as she said the total. The store wasn't big, I think it had only six tables in total, but the ice cream was delicious and made on site in small batches.

As I reached for my wallet, Kisa nudged me gently to the side, holding out a twenty. “Here you go." She gave me a sidelong glance, cutting off any potential protest I had, “And before you say anything, you got breakfast. It's the least I can do for dragging you out and about." When the change was handed back, Kisa dropped the two bucks and coins in the tip jar.

Jenna peered over the counter, watching the scoops going into her sundae dish. The clerk who manned the register was also making the treats. She paused after the last scoop and looked back, “Sweetie, would you like a cherry or two?"

The younger demi ducked a bit, her eyes just barely looking above the counter and ears back slightly. Jenna held up two fingers with blunted claws slightly extended from her finger tips. At times she could be the most outgoing kid you'd ever meet, but around new humans, adults especially, she tended to have a bit of a shy streak. I'd seen it with the other parents at the soccer camp and even at the truck stop she'd been silent with the waiter, allowing her mother to order for her. At least she seemed comfortable around the other kids in the camp though.

Two maraschino cherries were carefully added, one on top of each scoop. A little bit of the syrup was drizzled across the top to complete the sundae and a brightly colored red plastic fork was stuck just to the side. Kisa and Jenna were likely the first demi customers the shop had, at least for this clerk. Her initial surprise at seeing the felines had faded quickly and was replaced by a very keen effort to serve the unique guests as best she could. I knew there was a bit of curiosity and excitement mixed in, I had the same thing happen when they first stepped from their car at the practice field.

“Here you go, sweetie. Enjoy," the girl handed the completed sundae across the counter, beaming at the bundle of shy cuteness.

Jenna took it with a brief nod and stepped back. “Thank you," she added as she turned and selected a seat that faced a window looking towards the street outside.

Kisa had been watchful of the interaction, not imposingly so, but enough that I noticed it even if the clerk didn't. I reached out, hoping that I wasn't being too forward, and gave Kisa's hand a gentle squeeze. I felt her sharper claw tips just a bit, but she seemed reassured and gave me a quick glance as the tension left her.

We both looked back at the clerk as she walked to the counter, Kisa's sundae in one hand and my shake in the other. Her eyes dropped down briefly, seeing our hands clasped, “Any whipped cream or other toppings?"

Kisa shook her head, “It's perfect already."

I smiled back, “I'm fine too, thanks though."

The treats were handed over the counter to each of us while the clerk added with an exuberant smile, “Thank you for stopping by. And you two should be very proud, she's such a cutie, and polite too."

I felt the flush going to my face as the clerk smiled on happily, unaware of the incorrect assumption she'd made. It wasn't a stretch though, at seeing our hands together it was an honest mistake in determining the meaning behind the gesture. I stood at a loss for words, trying to think about how to handle this gracefully, but came up blank.

Kisa took it all in stride, “Well, thank you. And yes, I am proud of Jenna." She gave a subtle correction in her response, but I don't think the girl behind the counter caught it as we turned and headed to the table.

There was a whole process in my mind dealing with how relationships proceeded in ideal circumstances. But given the old saying about putting the cart before the horse, well, someone had tied the horse along the side of the road and launched the cart far off into the distance with a catapult while wearing an innocent smile and holding ice cream. I took another quick gulp of my shake, it was admittedly delicious.

Jenna was enjoying her sundae, the cherries were both gone and the orange scoop was about a third of the way through as she stared through the window. My shake was disappearing at a faster than normal rate while Kisa was taking her time with her own sundae. After the clerk's mistake, a bit of an awkward silence formed between us, partly because I wasn't sure what exactly to say, and partly because I wasn't sure what Kisa's thoughts were.

“So, where to next?" Kisa posed the question just before popping a spoonful of the dark brown ice cream into her mouth.

I was thankful for the break in the silence, “Well, there's a shop that does import goods, and the glass studio is a few doors down from that. I think there's an antique store on the far end of this row of shops too." I had bought the lamp from there, and so long as the place was still open it was sure to offer a few interesting items.

Jenna's attention was pulled from the window, “I hope it's not like uncle Hiro's store. It smells funny." The face she made was bad enough to convey the depth of an apparently unpleasant memory. “And it's dusty." She tuck her tongue out and grimaced, ending the motion in a short shiver of dislike.

I'd been to places that were antique stores in name but seemed more like a run down house with stacks of musty junk waiting for someone to sift through. Finding anything useful in a place like that took savvy shopping skills and a keen eye, then a bit of Indiana Jones-esque archaeology to get it out from under the mountain of other things piled on it. I decidedly lacked both those traits, so I tended to steer clear of such stores.

Kisa pointed at her daughter with her spoon, “Now, it's not that bad." The spoon soon turned at me, “And don't you go encouraging her."

Not that I was trying to encourage a dislike of antique stores, but I had made a sympathetic nod based on my own experiences. “Oh, this place isn't dusty or moldy. I think you'll like it." A quick pivot away, and hopefully I'd be off the hook. “But what I like is watching them make the pieces in the glass studio. They don't have a set schedule, but if we're lucky they'll be making stuff today." Given it was Saturday, there might be someone in the studio working if they had a second job during the week.

Kisa let her eyes linger on me for a moment longer before she decided to work on her sundae again. I took another drink of my shake before checking just how much I had left. I needed to slow my pace way down if I had any hope of not sitting with an empty cup for a while.

* * *

The import store had pretty much what you'd expect. A bunch of vaguely Asian pieces at a somewhat decent price, though I think I could get most of the selection online for a bit less. There were a variety of statues and figurines that were pretty, mostly a mix of big cats and wolves. There were a few fantasy pieces mixed in to the nature themes, I guess they were supposed to be elves or gnomes, but they looked more like pieces for a bachelor's pad rather than anything Kisa and Jenna would be interested in. There were some shelves and dressers though the build quality wasn't overly great. Better than the standard discount store fare based on aesthetics alone, but not something that'd last more than a few years. The most fun I had was watching Jenna wave back at the lucky cat statures before having a small giggle fit.

The glass studio was a bit of a bust as far as entertainment, there wasn't anyone working and most of the glass pieces on display were fancy things meant to be conversation pieces on a coffee table or some such. There were a few smaller items for sale, so I picked up a small glass horse figurine for Jenna and a nice vase for Kisa that had stripes embedded in it, similar to a cat's eye marble. It wasn't much, but the base color was a transparent blue not too far off from the shade Kisa was fond of. She fussed at me for splurging a bit, but I made the excuse of commemorating their first shopping trip in downtown Burke.

As we walked on, I carried the box with the glassware. The guy manning the studio register had wrapped the pieces in tissue paper first, then stuffed the box with newspaper to make a bit of a bed for securing the items. The box was then sealed tightly with a ribbon to make sure it got safely home. The whole thing was a bit much, but they at least cared about their work surviving the trip.

As we neared the end of the row of shops the antique store came into view. This place was one that lacked an electric open sign. A simple card hung by a string that displayed either “Open" or “Closed" depending on which way it was flipped. The place hadn't changed much since the last time I was there, save maybe a few new items and a few things sold. The person behind the counter was an older woman, if I had to guess about in her mid sixties. She looked up as we entered, raised an eyebrow, then looked back at her newspaper. It was the same treatment I'd gotten a year and a half ago.

The store was fairly well organized and it consisted of a bunch of smaller booths with items of a similar themes grouped together. One area had several old model trains and related gear on display, a few of the train cars still donned their original cardboard boxes. Another section had housewares, specifically plates and the like. There were multiple cabinets dedicated to complete and partial sets, and a few display cases that held single pieces that weren't part of a set but still fit into the category. Larger items like furniture were kept towards the back for easy access to the loading doors. It definitely wasn't what I'd think of as a classic junk shop, falling well within my requirements to be an antique store. Sure the place had the smell of older things, but it wasn't unpleasant, and the woman at the front looked stern enough to scare away most of the dust bunnies. I know I'd run for the hills if she came after me with a broom and dust pan.

I walked up with the box from the glass studio, “Do you want me to leave this up front?" Some shopkeeps could be funny about carrying packages around a store for fear of shoplifters.

The woman looked up from her paper and glanced over the box, “No, saw you had that when you came in. Got any questions about anything, I'll be right here." Her flat tone spoke of a routine boredom that came with many years of running a place like this. Her eyes quickly left me and the studio box then fell back to the newspaper, the editorials section if I saw correctly.

Kisa had stopped at the front of the store to take a brief survey of the sections before she looked towards Jenna, “Honey, stay with me. I'll want your opinion on a couple of things."

Jenna had gravitated towards a display case that had several table lamps, some with stylized glass and crystal shades that managed to sparkle in the somewhat dim lighting of the store. She looked back to her mother, “OK."

The two walked over to discuss some of the plate sets while I looked at display case full of old cameras. The shelves were mostly full of Kodacs, there was even a Brownie though I couldn't say if it was authentic. A handful of units by of other manufacturers were also in the case, including an old Polaroid OneStep. My father being somewhat of a camera guru had passed his knowledge down to me early on. I was probably one of the few in my generation that ever had really shaken a Polaroid picture and watched it develop, an experience the digital age had relegated to a handful of enthusiasts.

After spending far too much time in front of the cameras I looked up to see the two demis had moved on towards the furniture area. Kisa was kneeling down, looking at a smaller three shelf book case which had a matching cabinet next to it. Jenna was peering at the cabinet, my guess is they were seeing if the pieces would work in their new apartment.

As I made my way over to them I saw Kisa's ears turn in the direction of my footsteps. Even though I knew she'd heard me, I thought it'd still be polite to let them know I was there, “Find anything?"

Jenna looked up, “Mmm-Hmm, I think these would be pretty in the living room." The pieces were nice, they looked to be real wood at least and made from a variety with a reddish hue. All of the surfaces had been polished up nicely, and the dresser drawers moved freely. If Kisa liked more natural looking pieces I could probably find something similar from my parents or uncle's place of about the same dimensions. It wouldn't be quite as nice, but by the same token, it wouldn't be priced anywhere near what these were going for.

Kisa rose and straightened out her sundress, then she gave herself a small shake to ensure the fabric was laying nicely against her fur. “I do like these, they aren't made of that particleboard stuff and are quite sound."

I've seen more than one piece of MDF get trashed by an accidental spill, never mind that sawdust and glue aren't exactly a sturdy combination to begin with. Humidity alone could ruin it in a matter of months. “True. So real wood and something about this size?"

Kisa nodded, “More or less. Today is for looking though, getting ideas mostly." She gave me a small smile then turned to Jenna, “All right sweetheart, are you ready?"

Jenna glanced back at the dresser again, “Mmm-Hmm, but I really like this."

“I know, honey." Kisa gave her daughter's shoulder a little squeeze, “But there's still other places I'd like to look at. But I did like that plate set. What do you think?"

Jenna's face brightened up at the thought of getting something, “Oh, the ones with the plants and little flowers painted around the edges?"

Kisa smiled back at her daughter's enthusiasm, “Yes, those."

Jenna pressed her hands together excitedly, “Oh, I like those. You need to see them Mr Coach!" In mere seconds I was dragged over to the plates in question, though I tried to keep us at a reasonable pace through the store while Jenna tugged on my arm. “See! Aren't they nice?"

I looked at the set of dishes giving it as honest an appraisal as I could. It was an older style, and had all the dishes required for a full course for four. Plates, cups, bowls, and saucers, it all looked to be there. Much beyond that, it had a simple floral design with leaves and various flowers decorating the edges of each dish and cup. “Hmm, yeah, I think they are very pretty." I tried to make sure I sounded impressed, but not anything over the top.

Kisa nodded, “It's settled then." She approached the front of the store, making sure to catch the attention of the owner, “Miss, I'd like one of the dish sets, please."

The woman took a quick glance back to where Jenna and I stood. She folded her newspaper and stood up from the chair that sat behind the counter, “Alright dear, which one are you interested in?"

Kisa was pulling her wallet out from her purse, “Oh, the Imperial Set, Wild Flower if I remember correctly."

“Oh, that one is nice. I think it's marked as one ten." I took a quick look back, the woman had remembered the price right, exactly $110. “I'll pack it up, nothing as fancy as what that studio does, but it'll ge the job done." The woman took Kisa's debit card, “Thanks, dear. I'll just need to see an ID."

Kisa pulled her driver's license out from her wallet, “Here you go."

The woman looked at the picture on the card then back at Kisa, “Yeah, it's you all right. What brings you out to these parts all the way from Atlanta?" The woman inserted the card into the chip reader attached to a tablet and waited for the transaction to complete. The trend in many stores was a much smaller register and a tablet rather than the cost and hassle of a dedicated card reader.

“Oh, we just moved into Edison, about a week ago." The tablet chimed, asking for a signature.

The woman looked up as she handed Kisa the pad to sign on, “Working at the factory?" At Kisa's nod she continued, “My husband worked there 'till about twenty years ago, assembly line shifts." She took the tablet back and tapped the signature accepted button on the screen. Once everything was finalized, she handed the bank card to Kisa and pulled a box out from behind the counter along with a stack of newspapers. As the two walked back to the where the dinner set was on display the woman continued, “I'm glad they're doing work there again, just wish they'd hire more people and less machines. It won't be like it used to, but nothing ever is." After she set the box down, she stuffed a bit of newspapers in the bottom as a lining and began packing each dish. “So what kinda work you do?"

Kisa watched as the woman packed the set with obviously well practiced hands, “IT mostly, programming with a bit of system wide troubleshooting on the side."

The woman looked up without skipping a beat, “Workin' on the robots?" She could almost be one herself, each plate and saucer was quickly wrapped its own protective layer of paper and set carefully in the box with near machine precision. Jenna was as impressed with the whole process as I was, her eyes and ears followed each step closely and her tail twitched in fascination.

Kisa shook her head, and held a hand up, “Oh, no, not directly at least. Those things are handled by specialists. I work on our in-house software mostly. Stuff that sits above the robots by a level or two and helps coordinate the entire line. Well that and any other side projects that get thrown our way or we think up for ourselves."

“I see." She was down to the last two cups in the set, each cup nestled in it's own newspaper wrap and set into one of the bowls. The fancy box aside, the store owner's handling of the wares was in a completely separate class than what the studio cashier had done. “There you go dear, hope you enjoy it." With that, she placed the top on the box.

Kisa gave the woman a genuine smile, “Thank you, I will."

I looked at the newly boxed set, “Want me to get that?"

“No, Mr Coach, I can handle this just fine, but thank you." Kisa easily took the box in hand. I used to grab all the packages when my sisters and I went out and about. I didn't have much input to their shopping decisions, and I didn't mind all that much doing the carrying since it gave me something to do. The store owner was walking back to the front, but I heard a quickly stifled chuckle at the interaction. I just shrugged and kept my much smaller box from the studio in hand. As we left the antique store, I at least managed to hold the door open. Jenna skipped through first while Kisa gave me a small smile as she passed.

As the door shut behind us, I heard a dog bark. The thing had to be tiny based on the fact it was more of a yip than a deep throaty bark. Jenna gave a small squeal at the little thing, I think it surprised her more than anything else.

An elderly couple had taken their dog with them for a midday walk. I don't know what kind of dog it was really, small, fuzzy, and brown. A fluffy version of Benji is maybe the best description, though benji was a good twice the size of that little guy.

The woman had pure while curly hair, about the same shade as the base of Kisa's coat. She held the dog's leash, a real one, not one of those I can't control my dog twenty foot retractable things, and the dog was in a good harness. “It's alright sweetie, he's just excited to see you. All right Jack, that's enough. Sit." A small tug on the leash and the dog stopped it's energetic bouncing and sat. The thing's tail was going a mile a minute against the sidewalk.

The woman was right, everything about the wiggly little dog screamed “pet me now".

Jenna blinked for a second then squatted down with her hand held out for the dog to smell. After a few sniffs the dog half scooted to under her hand, licking her palm pad and just about anything else it could reach. She giggled a bit at the pup before rubbing its ears and scratching under its chin with her other hand. The dog just leaned into whatever it could make contact with and continued licking where ever it could reach. By the time it was all done, Jenna's hands were completely damp up to her wrists, the fur stuck in little spikes from the canine's attentions.

The man gave his wife a quick tap on her shoulder, “Alright Mary, I think Jack's gotten enough and we shouldn't be holding these people up, that box looks pretty full."

* * *

We carried the two boxes back to the car and then continued to look at the rest of the shops until about 1:30. By that time, Jenna was getting hungry, and my stomach was a bit on the empty side as well. It was decided we'd eat first, then swing by Target and head back.

The shopping area had a fair amount of foot traffic by the time we headed out and I could see where a part of Jenna's shyness came from. While people weren't hostile, the fact that two demis were walking around hadn't gone unnoticed. Even I was beginning to feel a bit surrounded with all the curious glances or just open gawking in a few cases. Kids who were too young to know any better would point and loudly ask their parents what was going on. Why were the people in costumes? Are those really cat people? The questions were all centered around the fact that someone different was walking by.

Kisa seemed pretty much unaffected by the attention, I suppose she'd been dealing with it since the time her family was brought over stateside. As the amount of people increased, Jenna stayed closer to her mother. Sometimes she'd walk in between us, other times she'd take Kisa's hand. Through it all though, I could see her toughing it out, forcing her ears back up, keeping her tail's fur flat and not letting it thrash. The stores we stopped in provided at least a bit of refuge from the larger crowds. I followed Kisa's lead, keeping her daughter engaged and chatting about whatever caught her eye at the time. Normal conversations, normal time out.

We piled into the car, the weather was getting on the hot side and I was glad for the air conditioning. Jenna was glad too, but I think mostly because we were away from the throngs of people rather than the creature comforts afforded by the sedan. Once we were safely out of the parking lot and on our way, I checked back in the rear view, “So, did you have fun? Like the stores OK?"

Jenna thought on this a second, “I liked the one with the Christmas decorations. It was a bit busy at the end though."

I nodded, but kept my eye on the mirror, “Yeah, the weekends here can be a bit much. But the ice cream was good, oh and that older couple that had the fuzzy little dog."

At the mention of Jack, Jenna's giggles started up again, “He was cute, but my hands still smell like dog and I've washed them twice."

Kisa chuckled just a bit, “It'll fade honey, in about a day or two." As Jenna grimaced, Kisa angled her view toward me, “Scents can get trapped in our fur, not enough for anyone else but family to pick up on, but it's there and it stands out to us."

“Hmm, I never thought about that," add in another peculiarity that demis have to deal with. Plain humans with our comparatively dull sense of smell don't have to worry about such things. A quick encounter with some lava soap and just about anything comes off. I took a brief look at my own hands, wondering if they were telling stories I had no idea about.

Kisa grinned, following my line of sight and piecing my train of thought together, “Furless hands don't trap smells the same way, but we can pick up on what's lingering for an hour or so. A canine is even better than that."

That was an extra tidbit that's good to know. It also added an extra dimension to the information available about a person at a glance, or well sniff in this case, when it came to demis. “The most I can pick up on is what someone had for lunch, maybe."

Kisa grinned at that, “Well, normal human noses aren't quite tuned like ours. I find it makes people much more honest when they know about it. The things that make us demis go beyond the fur and tails you know."

It was true, I knew quite a bit in terms of raw facts based on the court documents and what scientific literature was publicly available. The evening after the first camp practice I spent a bit of time refreshing myself on demis in general since I was coaching one and wanted to be prepared. What you don't find out from facts alone is how society reacts and how those facts shape someone's experiences. Bit by bit, I was finding these things out. I realized I had spent more than a few seconds thinking on it, so I smiled back and nodded, trying not to be too awkward, “True, and I'll keep that in mind. Not that I'm trying to hide things, but I'd hate for you to be subjected to the potency of curry if I go for Caribbean for example. If I eat enough of it, it just oozes out of my pores for days."

That quip earned a bit of giggles from Jenna, “Is it that smelly?" She wrinkled her nose.

“Yep, but I think it smells wonderful. Oh and there's some great hot sauces they have that's amazing with fried fish." My stomach gave a growl at the thought of it.

“Sounds like you know of a place then, is it close by?" Kisa kept her eyes on the road as she posed the question.

There was, in fact, a small business that served as both a Caribbean grocery store and had some amazing food in the restaurant section. It was part of a little shopping center, tucked away in the back right corner if you're facing it from the street. I hadn't been there in a couple of years since I wasn't in Burke often, but couldn't pass up the chance to visit. “Well, yeah, if you two are up for it, I'd love to go there." As I answered, I checked the store's website, “Lunch hours are till three, and it's a buffet so there's a variety of stuff you can try." The place was as close to authentic street food as you could get, or at least I was told so by people who had actually visited the islands before.

“Jenna, it seems Mr Coach likes it well enough, are you alright with trying something new?" Kisa stole a glance in the rear view mirror at her daughter.

“Mmm-Hmm," came the excited reply.

* * *

The Island's Cafe was small, but as soon as you walked in, you could tell you were in for an amazing experience. The place smelled of jerk, curry, and a variety of other aromas that made my mouth water the instant I could pick up on them. The interior was decorated in tan with red-brown wooden accents and the music was a mix of reggae and classic hip-hop with a smattering of top 40's thrown in.

As Kisa and Jenna stepped through the door, I could see both their noses working overtime while they sorted the various fragrances out. I was a bit worried they'd find it overwhelming, but after a few seconds Kisa looked at me, “Shall we?"

I nodded and we went up to the register dedicated to the buffet, bypassing the line for takeout. I think the reason for the authenticity of the food was that the owners were originally from the islands. I had bought a few different bottles of hot sauce from the grocery side one day and got the chance to chat with the guy that was restocking the shelves. He was from Jamaica, and had said the chef was his uncle if I recalled correctly. The cashier had a heavy accent and he'd always been very personable, today was no different, “Three for the buffet?"

I smiled and nodded while reaching for my wallet, “I'll take a water with mine." I turned to Kisa and Jenna, “Would you two like soda? I think it's Coke products."

“That would be fine for the both of us," Kisa shot me a glance as she spoke, I think my tendency to pay for things was wearing just a bit thin. “And a separate check for us two, please." My suspicions were confirmed.

“No problem. That's eight fifty for you," the man gave me a knowing smile.

I shrugged and pushed my card into the chip reader. After the machine beeped, my receipt was printed out and I rounded things up to eleven dollars for my portion of the tip and then signed the receipt.

“And for you two ladies, it'll be eighteen even."

Kisa handed the clerk a twenty and waited for her change.

“Alright folks, sit anywhere you like and enjoy." The man handed me a stack of three sturdy plastic cups, one was clear while the other two were tinted red. It was late enough that there were only a few other people still having lunch, so we had our choice of the mostly empty seating. Everything was self-service, including the drinks. The little machine was just to the side of the two buffet counters and, as is custom, the water dispenser was a shared spout, activated by a little lever to the side of the pink lemonade button.

After getting our drinks, we settled on table with a booth against the wall and two chairs on the side opposite. After that, we made our way back to the counter where the steamer trays held all sorts of tasty fare. The other counter had cold items like fruit along with cornbread and coconut muffins. A small table had plates, plastic cutlery, and an assortment of hot sauces. I grabbed a Styrofoam plate and plastic fork and knife, then made my way over to the hot counter. My first plate was red beans and rice with curry goat over top, some fried fish pieces, and the third compartment of the plate was filled with delicious from-scratch mac and cheese.

Kisa and Jenna were deliberating over what they should try, so I grabbed a bone bowl and calypso sauce then stopped beside them, “Need anything?"

Jenna looked up at me, “No, just trying to decide, Mr Coach."

“Alright, I'll grab a couple of extra bowls for bones. It's all pretty rough cut." I think the meat prep for the curry consisted of skinning the chicken and hacking it into pieces with a cleaver. Effective and quick, plus stewing it with the bones in imparted an extra level of flavor to the dish. I headed back to the table and got the bowls arranged and sat in one of the chairs, remembering the demis' preference for booths.

When the two returned to the table, Jenna sat first. Her plate had a drumstick of jerk chicken, some mac and cheese, and a small bit of curry chicken. Kisa had both curried goat and chicken on a sparse bed of rice, along with a few bits of the fried fish. She looked at the calypso sauce as I doused my fish in it, “That smells fairly hot."

I grinned like an idiot, “Oh, it is. It's enough to give me the hiccups every once in a while, but the taste is worth it."

“Hmm," she sounded unconvinced and decided to forgo the sauce on her own fish.

Jenna started with the the mac and cheese, but quickly moved over to the more adventurous curry, careful to make sure there weren't any bones in the first forkful of meat. There's mild curries like in Japanese or English fare and hot curries like you'd find in Thai cuisine. Jamaican curry happens to have one of the strongest flavors with a rich blend of spices. A demi's sense of smell was enhanced compared to average humans, and I think in the case of felines at least, the same holds true for taste. I could see a range of reactions spread across her face, surprise, a bit of questioning, then finally accepting and a hint of a smile at the end as the flavors were processed. After a few swipes of her tongue over her muzzle she went in for more.

Kisa sampled a small bit of the goat before moving onto the chicken and then eating a few sections of fish. “I think the curry goes will with both the chicken and goat, and yes, all three of us will smell like curry for a few days."

I gave a small chuckle at that, knowing full well the truth of her observation.

* * *

After my third plate, I was pleasantly full and I didn't want to over do it as we still had at least one more stop. Kisa stopped at two, and Jenna finished off her first plate then had a small amount of stewed chicken and two pieces of fish. A coconut muffin for dessert finished her meal. I drank the last of my water then looked across the table, “Ready?"

Kisa and Jenna nodded, in truth they'd been waiting on me for a bit, but Kisa had told me to keep going as long as I wanted so I had the third plate. Yes, I have a weakness against a good plate of curried chicken or goat over rice, and I'm proud of that.

We left the restaurant with pleasant feeling that a good lunch brings. Kisa left her tip on the table and stopped by the counter to let the staff know how well she liked her first encounter with Caribbean food. I couldn't help but notice how formal she was. The more I thought about it, I realized she was like that with almost everyone, myself included. There were times when it slipped, when she'd let herself be a bit more free, but she usually had a reserved air about things.

I held the door as the two demis exited, squinting a bit as my eyes adjusted to the brightness outside. As we got closer to the car, I caught Kisa's attention, “So, honest opinion, what'd you think of it?"

Kisa stood next to the driver's side door of her car, “At first I didn't know quite what to expect. There's so many different aromas in there, but once we started eating, I found it all worked well together. The goat was my favorite though, it's a much richer flavor as a base."

I smiled at that, it sounded suspiciously like my own thoughts, “True. It's a bit stronger of a flavor than beef, and it stands up well against the heavier curry. The chicken is more like a curry delivery meat since it's milder. I like them both though." I glanced to the back seat where Jenna was getting her belt on, “How about you?"

“Hmm, the stewed chicken and the muffin were the best." I think the curry was a bit strong on the spices for her younger palette. Still though, she didn't seem to dislike anything so there'd be room for her tastes to grow accustomed to it. I'd just need to come up with reasons to visit Burke more often and invite them along.

Kisa pulled out from the small shopping center's parking lot and headed off towards Target. It was about ten minutes away, so there was just enough time for the food to settle before we wondered the isles of the larger store. Shortly before three o'clock we pulled in and found a parking space not too far from the doors. Burke wasn't large, but the big stores pulled in visitors from the city and surrounding counties as well. It wasn't super crowded, but it definitely wasn't the sparse conditions we'd seen elsewhere. People were going in and out of the store at a regular cadence, and the number of cars in the parking lot hinted at a healthy amount of shoppers inside.

“Do we need one?" I asked the question as we passed by a stall that was half full of the classic red plastic carts.

Kisa nodded, “We should probably take one. Jenna, think you can handle the cart?"

“Mmm-Hmm," Jenna bounded over to the carts and tried to pull one free with a slight grunt in effort.

The carts could get stuck together for a variety of reasons, and I saw the child safety strap was wedged in the cart ahead of it. “Hold on a second, let me get the strap free, then you pull it loose." I lifted the back panel of the cart in front just enough to push the buckle up a bit and pop it free.

Jenna saw what I was doing and pulled once the buckle fell back into place. The cart moved this time, and she gave a satisfied grin at the accomplishment, “Thanks, Mr Coach. Good teamwork!" It was a line I used at practice when the kids worked well together, so this brought a smile to my face as well.

When I looked back up, I saw Kisa standing stock still, her ears swiveled back which hid the earrings in the longer fur on the top of her head. Her posture was obviously tense, so something had happened. I looked around, trying to see the source of the issue, but found nothing but cars, carts, and a few shoppers. “Everything OK?" Evidently it wasn't, but best to ask.

Kisa forced her ears upright and gave herself a little shake which caused the sundress to flutter just a bit, “It's nothing but someone being inconsiderate." She gave a small huff of annoyance, “Honestly, do people think these ears are just decorations?"

I still had no idea what was going on, and whatever it was, Jenna wasn't aware of it either. Then again, we were both occupied with the cart. “Mama?"

Kisa looked down at the questioning look from Jenna, “Oh, honey, it's alright. Let's see, we needed some dishwasher detergent, bleach cleaner, oh, and what else?"

Jenna counted off the items, holding up four fingers, “I remember! Paper towels, silverware, water, and… and…" The last item was on the tip of her tongue, “Bath towels." She beamed at her eureka moment, “That's the six things."

“That's right, honey. Good job." Kisa patted her daughter's head just between her ears, “Alright, that's what we're here for, let's get going."

Jenna nodded and pushed the cart with Kisa on one side and myself on the other. Whatever had bothered her, I didn't want something to come of it, so I made sure to be on guard for anything as we made our way into the store.

The Target was much like any other, a Dollar Spot section at the front, clothes and jewelry just beyond the entrance. One thing I noticed was a distinct lack of anything that would accommodate a demi's features, chiefly a spot for their tail. I suppose that for anyone living away from the demi communities, such things would be a bit of an issue. There just weren't enough of them outside of the few larger neighborhoods to have anything stocked on shelves. There was always online shopping, but for something like clothes, it was kind of a toss up. Something that looked great in a picture may not fit right when put on.

Kisa was looking at some pants while I hovered near the cart, keeping an eye on Jenna as she looked at the licensed t-shirts. Each design was displayed above the racks, a few Nintendo themed shirts, some soda brands like Dr Pepper and Mello Yellow, classic bands like Aerosmith and Metallica, and a plethora of pop culture references. After several minutes of browsing, I could see Kisa relax again, whatever had unnerved her seemed to remain outside and soon dismissed.

We passed by the electronics section, but paused at the books and music since there was an album I had been meaning to pick up. Jenna looked at the toys and sporting goods while I looked through the audio cards to see if they still had a copy. The video had been insanely popular in spite of the band's indie origins, and the physical copy of the album had that along with a couple of bonus tracks included. To her chagrin there wasn't any Atlanta United gear on display, but a few of the toys seemed to catch her interest. We continued our circuit around the store, picking up the items they needed along with a few other things. Kisa found some towels she liked in the bath section and Jenna found a cute giraffe shaped soap dispenser that made its way into the cart. A case of water and a few snacks were added from the grocery isles.

While we were walking, we chatted about small things to fill the time. I got a better idea of Kisa's tastes as we went through the housewares. I'd point out things I thought looked nice, as well as things which I thought were gaudy beyond reason. She'd respond, saying what her thoughts on the item were, and sometimes Jenna would comment as well.

Shortly after Kisa found a set of silverware she liked, I noticed the conversation dried up. Any question I gave was answered by monosyllable words. As we walked on, Kisa's ears folded back and her tail was twitching in an erratic manner. Jenna's demeanor also changed, going from excited and bubbly to sticking close to her mother and the cart. I looked around, not knowing what had changed and at my attempt to bring it up, Kisa placed her hand on my arm and shook her head 'no'. Our leisurely pace through the store became a focused trip. The paper towels and bleach cleaner went in the cart, followed quickly by some dishwasher tabs that were on an end cap. From there we headed to the checkout without any additional detours.

Once we got to the checkout line, Kisa visibly forced her ears to a neutral position, and held a polite conversation with the cashier as we unloaded the cart. The girl's name was Kendra based on the tag on her shirt, and probably either just out of high school or maybe just finished her junior year. “Hi there, did you find everything OK?"

“Yes, thank you. How are you this afternoon?" Had I not known Kisa, I wouldn't have picked up on how tense she was as she continued with the pleasantries.

“Oh, I'm doing fine, thanks for asking." Kendra counted the number of towels and then scanned the tag on one of them four times. “Would you like paper or plastic?"

Kisa thought for a moment, “Paper for the towels, and if you wouldn't mind putting the dispenser in with the towels to keep it safe."

Kendra pulled the giraffe from the conveyor belt and responded with a chipper “No problem" as she scanned it. The first two towels went in the bag. “I'll just tuck him safely in here if that's OK." At Kisa's nod, the giraffe was placed in then the other towels went in on top, safely sandwiching it in the middle.

The rest of the items were scanned and bagged, except the water case which I just put back in the cart. I wasn't paying much attention to the rest of the checkout, Jenna was still nervous, and I finally figured out why. I guess they were twenty something, I wouldn't put them past twenty five at least, and they were whispering and laughing quietly to each other just beyond the register lines. One thing was certain, they were looking in our direction. I don't think anyone else even noticed it, they were keeping their distance and, to an average human at least, being rather subtle.

These two were poster children for the hate movements, I could easily see them standing outside in a group of other idiots shouting crap like 'blood and soil'. Young, angry for no reason other than having it instilled in them from an early age, and lacking the sense to see it. Funny how groups like that claim indoctrination happens in places like schools and college while ignoring that they're doing it to their own kids. Most of the time, fools like that don't want to cause a scene with other people around. I hoped that the number of shoppers would keep them held.

They at least noticed I saw them. I locked eyes with the larger of the two, he smirked, but continued talking with his cohort. I felt Kisa's hand on my forearm, she gave a squeeze with just enough claws to get my attention, “Ready, Todd?" The meaning was clear, leave them be and don't cause problems.

I had to pull the same trick Kisa had, let the outward signs of tension dissipate quickly and force a smile, “Sure thing."

It was a fairly brisk walk towards the car, we didn't look back, but about half way there they spoke loud enough even I could hear it, “Shit, I thought Trevor was full of it, but naw, here they are." Won't cause problems in the store, but out where there's not as many people and these guys decided to grow a pair. “Well, I guess there they go, fucking furs."

Kisa turned to face them, she'd tried leaving them be, tried walking away, but now they'd followed her out to the parking lot and posed actual danger. The things that make us demis go beyond the fur and tails, Kisa's voice echoed in my head. There were teeth and working claws and these idiots were seriously close to getting on the receiving end of them. I touched her forearm with my hand, “Look, I know, believe me, I know you can take care of yourself, so I'm sorry for doing this." I looked down, “Jenna." The poor girl was visibly shaking as she stared dead ahead, hands glued to the cart. “Jenna, do Mr Coach a favor and take the cart back to the car, and wait there for me there, OK?"

Jenna nodded and thankfully she kept going to the car. When I looked back up, Kisa's fur was fluffed so she looked far larger than normal, a white and black pillar of fury wrapped in a blue sundress. Everything about her posture hinted that she was close to coming unglued, but she was staring at me with a crystal clear focus behind those icy blue eyes and gave me a subtle nod. Fine, she'd let me deal with this, but if anything happened… I sighed, this wasn't the way I wanted to end our shopping trip.

I took a few steps forward, stopping halfway between the idiots and the demis. I just hoped the security cameras were on. The bigger of the two was maybe 6'2", a bit taller than myself and at least a few years younger. The smirk returned, “Oh, what are you supposed to be? Fuckin' traitor."

“Oh, aren't you the brilliant one. Let me guess pointed sheets in the laundry?" At least the smirk was gone, “Look dipshit," I hoped Jenna was out of earshot, “just in case you hadn't figured it out, or maybe they haven't made any picture books explaining it, those two are just as human as you and I." I held my hands out in a 'you should know this' manner, “Big court case on it, the dicks like you lost."

“Shut the fuck up. You know what you are, a fuckin' gimpy ass furry." Wow, they'd noticed my knee and the fact that demis have fur, all in one day.

I rolled my eyes at the lame attempt at an insult, “Look, just turn around, get in whatever nutsack hanging off the bumper truck you pulled in here with, and leave." All I wanted was for them to leave, other than that, just for one of them to try to shove, push or otherwise put their hands on me.

The big one was taking the bait. Sometimes a bully would leave when confronted, or when a target finally stood up to them. Sometimes, they just had to show off. He strode forward, I guess insulting his truck was enough, “You dumb fuck, I hope she bites it off when you pay that bitch to suck your di..."

In the middle of his tirade he's closed the distance between us and shoved me when saying 'bitch'. I'd been a soccer player longer than this guy could walk. I could judge distances and one of my legs might be screwed, but the other one was just fine. I took a step back with the shove, just to get lined up right, and punted the guy right in the goody bag with all the force of a striker in the world cup. His buddy stood in disbelief as he sank to his knees, his face twisted in overwhelming pain. My knee screamed at me, I'd be laid up for a good day or two, but I squared up and kicked the big guy right along the side of the head. He dropped limply to the ground, out cold.

“Now then, you drag this sorry sack back to his fucking car and leave." It took every bit of concentration to just stay upright and not roll around on the pavement holding my own knee.

The smaller of the two was half mumbling “Oh shit" over and over, but it finally registered that he should do just as I said. I glared at the two until the one left standing finished dragging the other into, yeah, a pickup. Big tires and truck nuts, complete with white supremacist bumper stickers. I heard shouting and looked back to the store. Great, security decided to show just the the truck peeled off.

It turned out there were some good folks there after all. A couple of shoppers had seen things start and made a break to get the store security. A few others stayed by their cars but watched and a few even took cell phone recordings. One called 911 so the town police were on their way. After an hour of explaining what happened, getting statements made to the security and the police, and reviewing the store's cameras, I was done with my part. Kisa had made statements too, explaining that someone had taken a picture of us entering the store. She heard the shutter noise that the phone made and that's what had her upset. As we reached the last quarter of the store, the two started tailing us. While I couldn't hear their conversation, both of the demis could, and none of what they were saying was anywhere near pleasant.

The officers who responded had more than enough to go on and they seemed dead set on following the matter up. I was only a child at the time, but some twenty years prior there was a home grown terror attack orchestrated by a white supremacist splinter group. That event sparked a series of other actions which in turn pointed a spotlight on how far hate groups had made it in law enforcement. Many states adopted new laws and talk was still ongoing about addressing the issue at the federal level. Every police department from the small towns on up were hyper aware of the optics of just about any situation. Community trust was issue number one for a lot of departments, and Burke was no exception.

They had the license plate of the truck, video, statements from us as well as the other shoppers who saw everything unfold outside. All they needed to do was stop by the address the plates were registered to and find the guy with the bruised face that had trouble walking. Disorderly conduct and assault were the lowest offenses. This was technically part hate crime, and its targets were a demi mother and child that just moved into the area, the press would have a field day if this case was mishandled. The cops gave both Kisa and myself assurances that the matter would be dealt with and I had little reason to doubt it.

The ride back was almost entirely in silence save for the road noise of the car tires. Every once in a while, I'd glance sideways at Kisa, or check on Jenna in the rear view. Jenna had her headphones on and was resolutely absorbed in her tablet. Kisa was angry, even though her fur had long settled, I was sure there'd be claw pricks in the steering wheel with how hard she had a grip on the thing. For the most part, I stared as the road passed by. I didn't want Kisa to get in a fight, goodness only knows what the local news would make of it. I mean sure, the reality of it would be dumb ass gets what he deserves, film at 11, but how the news presented things would matter. All it'd take is a newscaster saying a local man was mauled…

I wasn't trying to play the hero or be a tough guy, I was too old to worry about that, but I'd also be lying if I said I didn't feel just a bit of satisfaction as my foot connected. Right or wrong, I had reasons for what I did, I just didn't have any clue how Kisa felt, and I couldn't broach the subject as we drove back to Edison.